How can two people who are in the same circumstances in the same hospital be in such very different places? She is sad, anxious, grieving the loss of independence and staring into her own mortality, frightened. He is calm, serene, at peace and says, “You just have got to expect it.” She has outlived two husbands. He has outlived one wife. Both are over eighty. Both are people of faith. So what’s the difference? He has had more time to process things.
His illness has been a gradual decline toward death lasting several years. Her illness has been more sudden. Up to now, she has enjoyed good health. Illness has been his companion for a while. She has a lot of catching up to do to be where he is. He has a head start. I don’t expect her to be at the same place. She’ll get there. I know it. And so does she.
Sometimes being a chaplain just isn’t much fun. It is hard to walk with others who are being pressed in by the narrowing of life, facing their own mortality, without facing my own. Though I am well past the middle point of my life, I still want to believe I’m never going to die. Or at least not think about it today.
Blessings to you all,
Jerald
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
Miracle Tuesday
Glimmers
August 21, 2009
As often happens, one scene evoked the memory of another. On Facebook this past Tuesday, I wrote the following; “I walked past room 307 and smiled. The man’s chances of ever leaving the hospital were slim. His son kept saying, ‘every day is a miracle.’ Today was no exception.”
The family in question hails from a Southern state and they are only here part of the year. While here, he had fallen gravely ill and recovery was very doubtful. When I first met them in the ICU, one of his sons and a brother-in-law were keeping vigil by his side. “It’s miracle Monday,” the son said with that Southern drawl. “The doctor said if he made it 24 hours, he might have a chance.” “We’re past that.” “Every day is a miracle.” The certainty of his faith lifted mine. It was not the first time that had happened.
As a chaplain resident at the University of Tennessee Medical Center in Knoxville, I was responsible for covering the Emergency Department when on-call. On one such night, the trauma pager went off and I reported to the ED to find out what was happening. I read the board and learned a man had been buried as a ditch had caved in and he was being flown in from Sevier County.
The flight team was administering chest compressions and bagging (breathing for) the patient as they wheeled him into the trauma room. He was not responding. They opened his chest, fluid gushed out and I watched as the physician wrapped his hand around the man’s heart and began squeezing it. To my amazement, it responded.
Shortly thereafter, I met some family and the man’s construction supervisor in a room next the to main ED waiting room. The physician who had accompanied me to report on the man’s progress said, “This is the chaplain.” “He’ll pray with you.” Before I could even take offense at his clumsy and simplistic description of my role, the construction supervisor took over. Covered with dirt from digging his friend and co-worker out of the ditch, his tall frame collapsed to the floor as he began to pray. It was simple, child-like and deeply moving. “I can’t add anything to that except Amen,” I said. A few days later, his once-dead friend was released from the hospital. It was the first time I had witnessed anything close to a miracle. The last one was miracle Tuesday.
Blessings to you all,
Jerald
August 21, 2009
As often happens, one scene evoked the memory of another. On Facebook this past Tuesday, I wrote the following; “I walked past room 307 and smiled. The man’s chances of ever leaving the hospital were slim. His son kept saying, ‘every day is a miracle.’ Today was no exception.”
The family in question hails from a Southern state and they are only here part of the year. While here, he had fallen gravely ill and recovery was very doubtful. When I first met them in the ICU, one of his sons and a brother-in-law were keeping vigil by his side. “It’s miracle Monday,” the son said with that Southern drawl. “The doctor said if he made it 24 hours, he might have a chance.” “We’re past that.” “Every day is a miracle.” The certainty of his faith lifted mine. It was not the first time that had happened.
As a chaplain resident at the University of Tennessee Medical Center in Knoxville, I was responsible for covering the Emergency Department when on-call. On one such night, the trauma pager went off and I reported to the ED to find out what was happening. I read the board and learned a man had been buried as a ditch had caved in and he was being flown in from Sevier County.
The flight team was administering chest compressions and bagging (breathing for) the patient as they wheeled him into the trauma room. He was not responding. They opened his chest, fluid gushed out and I watched as the physician wrapped his hand around the man’s heart and began squeezing it. To my amazement, it responded.
Shortly thereafter, I met some family and the man’s construction supervisor in a room next the to main ED waiting room. The physician who had accompanied me to report on the man’s progress said, “This is the chaplain.” “He’ll pray with you.” Before I could even take offense at his clumsy and simplistic description of my role, the construction supervisor took over. Covered with dirt from digging his friend and co-worker out of the ditch, his tall frame collapsed to the floor as he began to pray. It was simple, child-like and deeply moving. “I can’t add anything to that except Amen,” I said. A few days later, his once-dead friend was released from the hospital. It was the first time I had witnessed anything close to a miracle. The last one was miracle Tuesday.
Blessings to you all,
Jerald
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Be Good To Yourself!
Reverend David Gant, my pastor’s grandfather, is in his mid 80’s. He is one of those persons about whom the more you know, the more you want to know. He has a beaming smile, a gentle disposition and is always ready with an encouraging word. What he hasn’t had is an easy life.
His wife, who died last year, spent the last few years of her life suffering from Alzheimer’s syndrome. Rev. Gant was faithful to the end. He would go to the nursing home to see her three times a day to feed her breakfast, lunch and dinner. I have a vivid memory of talking with Rev. Gant after morning worship about five years ago. “How are you?” I asked. “I’m great this morning,” he replied. “I went to see my wife this morning to feed her breakfast and she remembered who I was.”
This past Sunday, he greeted everyone coming in for worship and gave us that great smile, a handshake and a blue slip of paper. I have read it a dozen or more times since. I have no idea of the original source, so I can’t give due credit, but it is worth sharing.
BE GOOD TO YOURSELF
Be Yourself…Truthfully
Accept Yourself…Gratefully
Value Yourself…Joyfully
Forgive Yourself…Completely
Treat Yourself…Generously
Balance Yourself…Harmoniously
Bless Yourself…Abundantly
Trust Yourself…Confidently
Love Yourself…Wholeheartedly
Empower Yourself…Prayerfully
Give Yourself…Enthusiastically
Express Yourself…Radiantly
Our work in healthcare is always demanding and sometimes draining. Self-care is not an option. It is a requirement. Be good to yourself. You have my permission.
Blessings to you all,
His wife, who died last year, spent the last few years of her life suffering from Alzheimer’s syndrome. Rev. Gant was faithful to the end. He would go to the nursing home to see her three times a day to feed her breakfast, lunch and dinner. I have a vivid memory of talking with Rev. Gant after morning worship about five years ago. “How are you?” I asked. “I’m great this morning,” he replied. “I went to see my wife this morning to feed her breakfast and she remembered who I was.”
This past Sunday, he greeted everyone coming in for worship and gave us that great smile, a handshake and a blue slip of paper. I have read it a dozen or more times since. I have no idea of the original source, so I can’t give due credit, but it is worth sharing.
BE GOOD TO YOURSELF
Be Yourself…Truthfully
Accept Yourself…Gratefully
Value Yourself…Joyfully
Forgive Yourself…Completely
Treat Yourself…Generously
Balance Yourself…Harmoniously
Bless Yourself…Abundantly
Trust Yourself…Confidently
Love Yourself…Wholeheartedly
Empower Yourself…Prayerfully
Give Yourself…Enthusiastically
Express Yourself…Radiantly
Our work in healthcare is always demanding and sometimes draining. Self-care is not an option. It is a requirement. Be good to yourself. You have my permission.
Blessings to you all,
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Confession of a Worrier
Glimmers
July 31, 2009
“I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.”( Joshua 1:5, Hebrews 13:5)
I am a worrier. There, I said it. I have heard all the reasons why a person of faith shouldn’t worry. I even have a little poem I memorized from a sermon I preached twenty years ago about worry; “Worry never climbed a hill, worry never paid a bill, worry never led a horse to water, worry never did a thing you’d think it oughta.” And still I worry.
I used to worry if I’d get a job when I finished college. Then I worried about finding someone to share my life with me. I worried about our children (well, I still worry about them-the hazards of being a parent) and I have worried over my career. Now, I worry about retirement a lot. Will I be healthy enough to enjoy it? Will I have enough money?
I remember a corny joke, the kind that’s safe for preachers to tell from the pulpit, about worry. As the plane ascended the airline hostess noticed the man gripping the armrests of his seat so tightly that his knuckles were white. And so was his collar. “Reverend, why are you so afraid?” she asked. “ Doesn’t the Bible say ‘I am with you always?’” Tightening his grip, he looked up at her and said, “NO!” “It says ‘LO I am with you always!’”
In the last Glimmers, I talked about The Shack, written by Wm. Paul Young and how the statement “if anything matters, everything matters” had been such an encouragement to me. Another passage in the book caused me to smile and repent in quick succession. Jesus is talking to Mack and says, “Mack, do you realize that your imagination of the future, which is almost always dictated by fear of some kind, rarely, if ever, pictures me with you”(p. 144).
Ouch.
Blessings to you all,
Jerald
July 31, 2009
“I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.”( Joshua 1:5, Hebrews 13:5)
I am a worrier. There, I said it. I have heard all the reasons why a person of faith shouldn’t worry. I even have a little poem I memorized from a sermon I preached twenty years ago about worry; “Worry never climbed a hill, worry never paid a bill, worry never led a horse to water, worry never did a thing you’d think it oughta.” And still I worry.
I used to worry if I’d get a job when I finished college. Then I worried about finding someone to share my life with me. I worried about our children (well, I still worry about them-the hazards of being a parent) and I have worried over my career. Now, I worry about retirement a lot. Will I be healthy enough to enjoy it? Will I have enough money?
I remember a corny joke, the kind that’s safe for preachers to tell from the pulpit, about worry. As the plane ascended the airline hostess noticed the man gripping the armrests of his seat so tightly that his knuckles were white. And so was his collar. “Reverend, why are you so afraid?” she asked. “ Doesn’t the Bible say ‘I am with you always?’” Tightening his grip, he looked up at her and said, “NO!” “It says ‘LO I am with you always!’”
In the last Glimmers, I talked about The Shack, written by Wm. Paul Young and how the statement “if anything matters, everything matters” had been such an encouragement to me. Another passage in the book caused me to smile and repent in quick succession. Jesus is talking to Mack and says, “Mack, do you realize that your imagination of the future, which is almost always dictated by fear of some kind, rarely, if ever, pictures me with you”(p. 144).
Ouch.
Blessings to you all,
Jerald
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